


catch me waxing poetic about things i like-

by Usernamesarehardtocomeby



Category: None - Fandom
Genre: comfort is the name of the game!
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-27
Updated: 2020-09-28
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:48:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26673169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Usernamesarehardtocomeby/pseuds/Usernamesarehardtocomeby
Summary: (or, the thing i spin into tapestries of marvelous serenity when im feeling down.)





	1. The sound of sand caught in the winds that blow past your ears whispering words that remind you of all you are.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beach, the lighthouse

The sand between madeline’s toes is warm and comforting, as pleasant as the salted winds that blow whatever spare curls it can grab around her in a thickening breeze, the setting sun casts the usually pale sand in honeyed oranges and hints of those magnificent pinks and reds that dance across the sky, leaving smears of their colors of the clouds above, pearly and white, spread across the slowly darkening sky like the smears of paint on a midnight canvas.

She looks up at them, taking in how they complete the sunset backdrop, making the old lighthouse with its swirls of worn navy paint and chipped white staircase look more like a fairytale than an actual place.

An actual lighthouse.

  
As she draws closer the sand depends in shades, bits of shiny and smooth rocks spread amongst the sandy reeds, the sun casts the place in a warm pink and orange, and only her deeper blue shadow stands out, pinned to the wind weary tower like a butterfly, moving with her as she runs a hand across the old stone, resting an extra moment at the corner where a door once stood, the edges rounded and familiar.

  
There is always a fresh cup of coffee awaiting her arrival at the old, rust covered steel of stairs that reach up to the old and unused light at the top, the mug is always different, the coffee is sometimes tea, but it is always perfect, and it is always there. Somehow she knows this to be true, though she feels only vague familiarity of the details of this place..

It does little to stop her from grabbing the mug on her way up, clutching the familiar shape of comfort that brings her peace.

Madeline climbs those familiar steps, bare feet making hardly a sound on the warm staircase as she climbs upwards, smears of that same honeyed orange glistening against the white of the interior through windows that line the railing, open and inviting the light to filter through each stop on her small journey to the very top, fingers picking up that red rust that feels like chalk after a day of exploring the quiet of her beach.

  
She reaches the top, just in time to see the sun disappear into the distance, see those quiet colors fade into the night.. And the stars start to glimmer in the void above, beautiful little pinpricks of light, bright and distant, bright and welcoming.

She looks out to the lights, so prominent amongst the dark of the sky, and smiles, trapped by the subtle beauty of stars flickering like fireflies above an endless sea, the small marvel of celestial beings floating in an endless black, shedding the tiniest bit of light on this planet, thousands and thousands of miles away..

  
Madeline sighs, sipping what she guesses to be coffee, though the lighting is dim and nothing tastes of anything distinct, only the warm presence of comfort and calm that washes over her as she watched the sky with its thousands of tiny lights, watched the ocean with its endless waves of seashells tossed to the tides, salt tossed to the wind, colors tossed to the sky..

And madeline closes her eyes in pure delight, letting the feeling of enjoying her favorite place..


	2. The rain that drips onto windowsills and weary faces that look to the sky with joy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The forest, the cottage

Madeline opens her eyes, surprised at the almost instantanuos change in scenery, and look around the room she's found herself in.. Home.. 

It is not a very big room, enough to hold a sagging, oddly mustard colored couch that smells of dew on wildflowers. Enough for an old, candle filled chest, dripping with scented wax for cold and lonely nights, to serve as a coffee table, three sparsely painted squares of porcelain that hold two empty mugs that smell of old coffee grains and tea bags, the third a warm cup of hot chocolate. Enough for a spare deck of cards and an old and withered rocking chair. Enough for an umbrella never touched and a few pairs of rain boots. Enough for a raincoat and a fee seashells. Worn and soft quilts strewn about the dark, warm wooden floors as a makeshift carpet, enought to stretch out on and relax under the skylight she spies above her, rain pouring from the sky above.

Madeline takes a step back to revel in the comfort of her cabin surrounded by windows to the outside, where she can see the deep forest and hear the pouring storm from all sides.

It is familiar. It is home. Like a secret is familiar, like a haven is familiar, like the way a place you so desperately love is familiar. It is the calm in the middle of a raging storm. It is the place to hide from life and noise and stress. It is home and it is hers. It is Madelines.

She laughs, spinning around on the smooth wood floors, bare feet making barely a sounds, and stops abruptly when the lightning above her head strikes somewhere far in the distance, stops only to marvel at the delicate arms of light that shatter the horizon like a hammer pounding nails into wood, stops only to wait for the thunder that shakes the bones of her safe haven. Stops only to find where she spied those rain boots, sitting by the front door, patiently waiting.

It is cold outside. Not unpleasantly so, but a wind whistles throught the soaked trees like a reminder to keep moving through the mossy floor. It is peaceful, not quiet, with the heavy drops that land in your eyes and the thunder that shakes the trees like a booming hello, with the birds that sing the sky's praise and the things that giggle along with you in the woods. 

It feels right, the fogged blue of the sky, the think and bright grrens against almost black wood, it feels like it belongs, like she belongs, among the towering forest and the small cabin and the bright red raincoat that pairs well with her plain black boots. Madeline smiles again, slipping off the boots, slinging them over her shoulder, hiking up her pants to truely wander throught the puddles and moss and grass, she never really needed them to begin with, not really. 

She looks up, turns her eyes to the pouring clouds, rain splatters in them now, splashes down her face and hair and lands on her coat, she smiles, and laughs, and closes her eyes once again, happy and free and content.


End file.
